


9. Orange

by TheArtistFormerlyKnownAsG



Series: Twinkstober 2020 [9]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Banter, Colors, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia is a Mess, Inappropriate Behavior, Innuendo, Jealousy, M/M, Misunderstandings, POV Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Roach Has the Brain Cell (The Witcher), Roach Ships It (The Witcher), This Is STUPID
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:27:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26915116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheArtistFormerlyKnownAsG/pseuds/TheArtistFormerlyKnownAsG
Summary: Twinkstober 2020Prompt: orangeWho knew Geralt was this interested in Jaskier's fashion choices.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Twinkstober 2020 [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1923553
Comments: 14
Kudos: 283





	9. Orange

**Author's Note:**

> I... honestly don't know what this even is.i had no idea what to do with this prompt because I didn't want to essentially do the popsicle thing again, and then the idea of Geralt violently disliking the colour orange popped into my head and wouldn't leave me alone, so here we are. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Warnings: Geralt being called 'daddy' in a nonsexual context

"What the fuck is _that_?"

Jaskier looks up at him from his pack, holding up the offending garment. "It's my new doublet?"

"Why is it _orange_?" Geralt can feel his eye start to twitch. He doesn't like orange on principle for some reason, but now, next to Jaskier's skin, he's discovering that he absolutely _hates_ it.

The bard looks from the doublet to Geralt and back again. "It's the colour of the season, Geralt. _Everyone_ is wearing orange these days."

"You're not," Geralt says and reaches for the doublet. He wants to throw it out the window, get it out of his sight. He can already feel the swell of satisfaction in his gut, can imagine it fluttering through the air to land in the mud somewhere. Preferably in a pig sty.

Instead of granting him that satisfaction, Jaskier pulls back, holding it behind him. "What the fuck, Geralt? It's just a doublet, what's gotten into you?" He looks genuinely puzzled, and Geralt takes a deep breath, tries to calm his admittedly irrational ire at the garment.

"It makes your skin look sallow," he says, because it does and just imagining Jaskier wearing that... thing makes him slightly queasy.

Jaskier's eyes widen, and he looks like an angry sparrow all of a sudden, puffing himself up in indignation. "It certainly _doesn't_! Aleksy assured me it does wonders for my eyes, he would _never_ lie to me."

"Who the fuck is Aleksy?" Something bitter rises in his chest, something harsh that makes his hands curl into fists.

"My tailor, back in Oxenfurt."

"You have a tailor?" Huh. He knew Jaskier came from money, but this seems a bit much. Jaskier smiles.

"A personal one, at that. He's been making my clothes for years and years and, pardon me for saying so, he knows more about fashion than _you_ do, darling."

Geralt frowns, and in a fit of pique says, "Why don't you go and stay with _Aleksy_ then, if he's so much more to your tastes?" And before he can really think it through, he's out the door, leaving Jaskier behind looking utterly stunned.

 _Fucking orange_ , he thinks as he thunders down the stairs, ignoring the curious looks from the people gathered in the inn's common room, and storms outside. _Fucking Aleksy_.

He heads to the stables to check on Roach (sure), trying to calm himself down. What is _wrong_ with him?

He's sitting in Roach's box when Jaskier finds him, angrily ripping up stalks of straw. Part of him wants to bark at the bard to piss off and leave him in peace, but he knows he's being stupid. It's just a fucking doublet after all.

"I thought I might find you here," Jaskier says softly. "What's gotten you all in a tizzy?"

Geralt shrugs one shoulder. "Don't like orange."

There's an indelicate snort from outside the box, and then the latch is undone and Jaskier comes inside. Roach bumps him with her nose and he laughs, patting her affectionately. "Sorry, sweetheart, I'm here for your daddy, not you," he says as he pushes her away gently.

Geralt looks up at him dubiously. "Daddy?"

Jaskier waves dismissively as he drops down into the straw beside him. "I'm not going to call you her owner, now am I? That would be awfully rude." He also picks up some straw and winds it around one finger. "So, what's the problem with orange?"

The Witcher stares straight ahead for a moment. He doesn't know, is the thing. He's never liked the colour, but he has never gone quite so... _feral_ over it. "Don't know. Just... don't like it." He looks at Jaskier from the corner of his eye. "And it does make you look sallow."

Jaskier rolls his eyes. "If you say so." He bumps his shoulder against Geralt's, and part of Geralt wants to pull him close and keep him there. "If you really hate it so much, I can sell it."

"Jaskier, that's-" He rubs a hand over his face. This is _stupid_. "You don't have to-"

"I know," Jaskier says, smiling softly. "But I'd rather wear something that you like seeing me in, so that you'll look at me and not want to _vomit_."

Geralt groans. "That could never happen." His mouth twists. "Even in fucking _orange_ you're still gorgeous."

Jaskier stills next to him, and Geralt can hear his heart start to beat quicker. "What?"

Wait. What did he say?

Oh.

Oh, _shit_.

"Jaskier," he starts, but then Jaskier turns and looks at him, those blue, blue eyes wide.

"You think I'm gorgeous?" There's the slightest tremble to his voice, one someone not as intimately acquainted with the bard would never notice. Geralt notices.

"I-" Jaskier licks his lips, and Geralt mirrors the movement unthinkingly. "Hm," he says, eloquent as ever, and Jaskier grins, wide and delighted.

"That's probably the most honest compliment anybody has ever given me," he says, and all of a sudden, Geralt has his arms full with the bard as he drops sideways, sprawling over Geralt's thighs. He grins up at him, and Geralt's insides grow warm. "Next thing you know, you'll compliment my singing if you're not careful!"

Geralt can't help it, the side of his mouth quirks upwards. "Don't get ahead of yourself, songbird," he says, and Jaskier laughs. It's true, though, because of course it is - the bard is gorgeous, the most gorgeous man Geralt has ever seen. He's also kind and generous and loving and-

 _Oh_.

"I'll have to write Aleksy," Jaskier continues, and it's like a bucket of ice water over Geralt's head. "He'll have to make me something else, latest fashions be damned. What would you like?"

And just like that, all thoughts of Aleksy are blown straight out of Geralt's head. He looks down at the bard in his lap, at the cornflower blue of his eyes, thinks back to their first meeting and the red and blue doublet Jaskier had worn then, the one that made his eyes look that much bluer, and it's really no question. "Blue," he says, and then, because he's a fool, "cornflower blue, like your eyes," and Jaskier's mouth drops.

"Am I... am I rubbing off on you, Geralt? What's with the colourful language?" He still looks delighted, however, and there's a slight flush in his cheeks, and Geralt leans down a little.

Jaskier's pupils dilate, and Geralt thinks, _Would you look at that._ To hell with it then, and he's feeling reckless, and so he says, "You can rub off on me any time you like."

Jaskier's mouth opens, then closes again. His hand, resting in the straw beside him, twitches. Then he licks his lips again. "Do you mean..." He lifts his eyebrows, and now Geralt has to laugh.

"Yes, Jaskier," he says, smiling fondly, "I do mean."

"In that case," the bard says, and next thing he knows, Geralt is being pulled down by his medallion and Jaskier's lips are on his and _fuck_.

Roach snorts and stamps her foot, and neither of them care. She has seen so much worse.


End file.
